Love is a Friendship Set to Music
by Miss Maggie
Summary: -Joseph Campbell. Friends, lovers, and all that's in-between, a set of non-related drabbles and one-shots featuring Artie and Tina. Eight: A true 100-word drabble. Tina learns something over the course of Sophomore year.
1. Heartbeat

**Author's Note: **A new series, of sorts. _Love is a Friendship Set to Music _is meant to be a series of non-related one-shots featuring Artie and Tina. Consider it a home for all the drabbles and short fics that I don't think need to stand alone as individual stories. Updates, much like for _Perky Goth_, will be irregular based on inspiration and prompts/suggestions thrown in my direction. (Anyone and everyone is welcome to throw ideas at me, by the way.) First up, this one.

_Notes: Pre-established relationship, set sometime during their late sophomore/early junior year._

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**Heartbeat**

She knows it's odd, but to Tina, her favorite part of actually sleeping with Artie is getting to rest her head on his chest and feel his heartbeat afterward. Not that she doesn't like the ...other stuff (she actually likes it quite a bit), but the intimacy afterward kind of gets to her in an even more profound way. Sometimes the sound of his heart beating is fast and frantic, an erratic march. And other times, it's slow and sweet and it makes her ache with longing. But she likes it best when it's steady, like a perfect rhythm, and it makes her feel soft and safe and perfectly content.

Artie asks her what she's doing the first time Tina slinks her head down to rest over his bare chest, her ear perfectly aligned to listen to his heartbeat.

"Listening," she says, her tone making it clear that her actions should be perfectly obvious.

"You're listening to my heartbeat?" Artie's tone is amused, curious, and a bit surprised.

She closes her eyes and gestures for him to be quiet. His heartbeat has picked up now, going faster, like he's nervous, just a little bit unsure. Tina smiles, because she can read him so well just by listening, and that makes her feel special. Powerful, even.

Artie rubs her shoulder gently, trying to get her attention. "Tina?"

"Still listening," she murmurs, unwilling to pull away. "Your heartbeat says a lot about you."

"Like what?" Artie wraps his arm around her, cuddling her closer. "What does it say?"

"That right now, you're nervous," Tina says, softly, eyes closed, still listening. "Earlier, it was slower, like you felt satisfied. Contented. And I think it's settling down again, going back to steady, which is my favorite."

"You're something else, Tee." His hand moves up to rest on her head, and his fingers wind themselves through her hair, still boldly streaked.

Her ears perk up, his heart is starting to race again. Tina knows something important is happening, so she reaches out to take his free hand and squeeze it comfortably, trying to give him the courage to speak to her.

"I love you."

His heart is still beating rapidly, and his fingers in her hair have tensed slightly. Tina listens for one marvelous beat before finally lifting her head up to smile at him, her face glowing and vibrant and happy.

"I know."

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Reviews are love. :)


	2. How the Cookie Crumbles

**Author's Note: **An experimentation in dialogue-only. For _Artemis Rayne, _who indirectly inspired this one.

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**How the Cookie Crumbles**

"What are these, Tee?"

"I think it's pretty obvious what they are, Artie. What do they look like to _you_?"

"I think they're supposed to be Oreos."

"Then why are you asking me silly questions?"

"But these Oreos have _orange_ cream, Tee. It's supposed to be white."

"Read the label, Artie. They're Halloween special edition Oreo cookies. The orange cream is _supposed_ to be like that."

"Next you'll be telling me they make these with red cream for Christmas."

"They do."

"But _why_?"

"Because it's a novelty. It's supposed to be _special_. They're also made with yellow cream around Easter, I think."

"Why do you know this, Tee?"

"Because _I_ like the special varieties. They're different."

"Sacrilegious is what they are."

"Fine, Artie, then next time _you_ can buy the Oreos."

"Okay, Tee, maybe these orange ones aren't _so_ bad after all."

"I had a feeling you'd come around eventually."


	3. Valentine's Day

**Valentine's Day**

Artie was fairly sure that his girlfriend was trying to kill him.

Today was Valentine's Day, and while he was somewhat fond of the holiday (especially now that he had a _girlfriend_ to share the day with), he knew that Tina wasn't. He understood her opinion, respected the fact that she wasn't altogether fond of the holiday, and then went and showed up at her doorstep with flowers anyway.

Tina had, to her credit, only mooned over the flowers for a few minutes before shyly smiling at her boyfriend. "Wait here," she'd instructed, then raced into her room, shutting the door with a decisive thud.

In hindsight, Artie probably should have recognized the mischievous glint in her eyes. (It always seemed to lead to attempts to kill Artie.)

Tina reappeared a few minutes later, dressed in The Bodysuit. The bodysuit he had admitted to being _fond_ of during their date last week (making out with her always seemed to short-circuit his brain and get him to talk without thinking first). It was The Bodysuit that she had worn while dancing back-up in Kurt's _Single Ladies _video with Brittany.

"…pretty?" Artie managed to stammer out after realizing he was staring. Then he mentally kicked himself upside the head, because that really was kind of a stupid thing to say.

Tina didn't seem to mind, because before Artie knew it, she had all but straddled him in the chair and was kissing him passionately. Somehow, (Artie doesn't remember how), they made it from his chair to the sofa, and his shirt was falling off of his frame, and well. Anyway. Artie's hand was sneaking down to pull decisively at the bottom of The Bodysuit eagerly.

"Artie," gasps Tina, her face flushed and full of well, nervous lust is about the only way to describe it. "You should know something before you do that."

He raises an eyebrow, resists the urge to tug at the clasp, and gestures for her to continue. "I love you. Go on?"

"Love you too," she pants, still breathing heavily, still with that mischievous look in her eyes. "But for the record, I'm not wearing any underwear under this."

Artie was positive his girlfriend was trying to kill him, but at least he'd die happy.

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**Author's Note: **Anyway! Happy Valentine's Day to all those--single or otherwise taken. Eat chocolate, it makes everything better. ;) Also! **Hecate's Rath** and I have set up an account over at **eleven[dot]gemini-****-**we're co-writing, and it's kind of awesome. Our first oneshot, an Artie/Tina Valentine's fic, should be up there sometime tomorrow. Follow us, please? _Reviews (and all of you) are love. _


	4. Future Pet Ownership

**Author's Note: **Something I wrote which eventually spawned a one-shot of its own. Look for that sometime over the next couple of days. :) Still writing, both with Hecate's Rath over at _eleven . gemini, _where we hope to have an Older Artie and Tina fic posted sometime this week, and still writing on my own. Updates on the horizon from me include: the aforementioned one-shot, an update to the HP!Glee fic, and a short sequel to The Line Between. :) Thanks for all the feedback and support so far--you all are amazing.

Notes: Pre-established relationship.

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**Pets**

Tina is lying next to Artie, the two of them side-by-side on a faded blanket in her backyard. The summer sun is baking them both overhead, but they're content to lie there, letting companionable silence surround them.

She can feel herself nodding off, so she breaks the silence with an idle question, not really expecting an answer, as she's pretty sure Artie's already nodded off next to her. "Would you ever want a pet one day?"

Artie laughs, much to Tina's surprise, and he moves to take her hand, while still lying down. "I don't know, not really. Maybe a dog? Someday. I hadn't really thought about it."

"I could see you with a dog," Tina replies, grinning over at him, even while she's biting her lip thoughtfully. "I think I'd like a cat one day. A black one."

"Why doesn't this surprise me?" Artie replies, dryly. "A black cat completely works for you."

This gets a giggle out of Tina, and she reaches out with the hand not holding his to poke him in the side. "Well, obviousness aside, black cats are adopted the _least_ in animal shelters. Somebody should give them a chance, too."

"And you're going to be the one to give a kitty that chance?" Artie smiles and leans back against the blanket.

His arms reach out to wrap around her, and Tina sighs and rests her head on his stomach contently. "Well, maybe one day," she says, just a little bit wistful.

"Why do you sound like this dream of yours might not be possible?"

"It wouldn't be for years yet. I can't have one now. My dad's allergic and we're all too busy for pets." Tina sighs again and traces her fingers along his leg in an idle pattern. "Maybe if I find an apartment in college that takes pets. And a roommate that doesn't mind the idea. Can I have a cat?"

"You don't need to ask me tor permission, Tee." Artie chuckles and starts rubbing her back. "I think you'll be able to have one eventually if you want."

She closes her eyes and gives a quiet hum. "I guess you're right. I can see you as more of a dog person, though. A big goofy mutt would be right up your alley."

Artie stops rubbing her back for a moment and gives her a disbelieving look. "Are you so sure about that? For all you know, it could be my secret dream to own a Shih Tzu."

"Please. You'd run over one of those toy dogs with your wheelchair in an hour or less." Tina opens her eyes and pokes him in the stomach again. "I'm surprised you don't have a dog right now, though. Your family seems like the type to have one."

"I don't know," admits Artie curiously. "I don't think we'd ever really thought about it, but I'm all right with not having one now. Pets are a lot of work, and my chair takes up a lot of room, so it's hard to deal with a pet underfoot. Anyway, my sister practically qualifies as a pet herself, she demands so much attention."

Tina gives an appreciative chuckle, then bites her lip before replying. "Well, I like dogs too, you know."

"I'm glad to hear that, Tee." Artie moves his hand to start rubbing her back again. "Why are you telling me this?"

Sometimes, Tina is very glad her boyfriend is a bit slow on the uptake.

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_Reviews are love, but so are every single one of you. _


	5. The Merits of ABBA

**Author's Note: **Inspired by some news I read online this morning. You'll figure out what it is as you're reading. :)

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"_You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life, see that girl, watch that scene, dig in the dancing queen…" _Tina sings the ABBA hit surprisingly well under her breath while she's working on her geometry homework at Artie's house one afternoon.

"ABBA, Tee?" Artie raises an eyebrow at her. "Really?"

Tina starts tapping her pencil in a steady rhythm. "Nothing wrong with ABBA."

Artie scoffs, clearly of a differing opinion. "It's ABBA, Tee."

"_Friday night and the lights are low…" _Tina smirks and starts singing more loudly. "_Looking out for the place to go…"_

A pained expression crosses Artie's face. "Is this because I said ABBA didn't deserve a spot in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame?"

The pencil's still tapping on the textbook, keeping steady time as Tina continues singing. "_You are the dancing queen, young and sweet, only seventeen…_"

"Tina!" Artie's getting a bit annoyed now. "You can stop singing ABBA anytime now. Please. I beg of you."

"_See that girl, watch that scene, dig in the dancing queen…" _Tina continues ignoring her best friend in favor singing the ABBA hit.

Artie's hand moves to stop the pencil that's keeping time. Tina surrenders the pencil to him, but doesn't stop singing. Instead, she starts tapping her fingers on her thigh as she continues to keep time. _"You're in the mood for a dance, and when you get the chance..."_

"Tina!" Artie's tone is sharp, sarcastic, and highly annoyed. "You don't even like ABBA either!"

She's almost done with the song, bound and determined to finish. "_Feel the beat from the tambourine, you can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life, see that girl, watch that scene, dig in the dancing queen!"_

When she's finished the song, Artie rolls his eyes at her. "Are you happy now?"

"_You can dan_—" Tina is stopped from singing the song again when Artie roughly brings his mouth to hers, capturing it in a kiss.

When they break apart, Tina looks smug. "And?"

Artie raises an eyebrow at her. "Oh, so you can talk now?"

"I know other ABBA songs. I can sing another, if you want." The smug expression is still on Tina's face. "Or maybe just "Dancing Queen" again since you're so fond of it."

"Fine." Artie pouts. "ABBA isn't that bad. But they still don't deserve a spot in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame."

"How do you feel about "Mamma Mia?" asks Tina conversationally.

"Okay." Artie takes a deep breath. "ABBA-had-musical-merits. Happy?"

Tina's face lights up with a triumphant smile. "Yep!"

"You did that just to annoy me, didn't you?" Artie sighs at her.

"Yep!"

He rolls his eyes at her. "You're something else, Tee."

"But you like it." Tina smirks and leans in to kiss him again.

Artie decides that there are far better uses for Tina's mouth than singing old ABBA hits. And he's going to happily demonstrate a few of them. Starting now. (Later, afterward, he realizes that might've been what Tina had in mind all along.)


	6. A Band Aid on a Bullet Wound

**Author's Note: **Funny story behind this fic. I was looking around for Glee spoilers (namely Artie/Tina ones), and someone recc'd _Of Fishnets and Sweater Vests,_ saying it was a fun fluff piece. This made me giddy happy, guys. For reals. :D And so, I decided I wanted to write something for all of my loyal readers, who review, rec, and basically make my day everytime some kind of "alert" from FFN appears in my e-mail inbox.

Erm. What you guys got was angst.

I have no idea how "I Love You Guys" = angst. But whatever. Then the AWESOME Artie/Tina spoilers broke yesterday, and well. Let's just say I'm once again disinclined to write angst. And will be for a while. I'm still giddy about that promo 24 hrs. later.

So. I love you all. Thanks for making my time in Artie/Tina-world a most rewarding experience so far. And hey, hey! ONE MORE WEEK!!

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Put a band-aid on it, make it better.

_A band-aid on a bullet wound_ thinks Tina wryly as she rubs a make-up streaked armwarmer over her smudged face. She won't cry, she won't cry. She's tough. Fierce. Fierce. Fierce.

If she keeps telling herself that, maybe she'll believe it. Maybe. Who knows. Who can really say?

All she knows is that she's left standing in the middle of a deserted hallway, with no best friend, one stupid wheelchair that she can't even steer properly, and make-up that's so smudged, she's sure she resembles a raccoon.

She kicks the wheelchair angrily, only to break off on a stream of colorful curses as Tina hobbles around awkwardly on one foot. So much for taking out her frustration on the accursed wheelchair.

So instead, Tina's back to square one. Deserted in a hallway, trying to put a band-aid on a bullet wound. Trying to figure out how to salvage her relationship with her supposed best friend. The best friend, that granted, left her hanging in the hallway after she begged apologies and pleaded for him to hear her out.

Some best friend.

Throw out a unabashed honesty for the first time in forever, and what good does it do? _Cheaters never prosper, my ass, _she thinks darkly as she roughly shoves the wheelchair in the choir room overnight. She can't stand the sight of it for now; bringing it home with her really will make her cry.

Tina stomps home, her mood as dark as the sky overhead, daylight fast disappearing in a haze of dusk. No best friend, definitely no boyfriend, and more walls between them.

Trying to tear down the walls leads to more of them.

Trying to be completely open, naked (theoretically), in front of him leads to scars too ugly to face.

Trying to be free leads to Tina, all alone. Again.

All she wants to do is be mad at Artie. To kick and scream and shout and blame him.

But she can't.

Because she lied.

She was the coward.

The loser.

The lame one.

She tried to hide for five years.

She _did_ hide for five years.

And all she wants to do at this point is get her best friend back. But, thinks Tina, does she even want Artie back as her best friend? He didn't listen. He got angry. Angry at her, for being a liar. A brilliant, boldfaced liar.

And then he left.

So she's angry. Angry at Artie for not being the best friend she thought he was.

But more than that.

She's sad.

Tina realizes this as she crawls into bed with a bowl of ice cream and a stack of Tim Burton movies later that night. She's not mad. She's sad, but more than that?

She's defeated.

Her stutter defeated her.

Her best friend defeated her.

She defeated herself.

So now she's stuck, hoping he'll call, when Tina promised herself she'd never wait for a boy to call, best friend or potential boyfriend or whatever, daydreaming about how to fix the gaping bullet hole in their relationship with a band-aid.

Because a band-aid's all she's got left right now.

So when Artie calls, at 3 am because he can't sleep and she's definitely not asleep, Tina thinks. That maybe they won't be dating anytime soon. And maybe they won't be best friends again right away. But maybe, just maybe, they can be regular friends again. And that hurts, in it's own weird way.

But it's a stitch. A single repair to the gaping bullet hole in their relationship. And stitches are always better at fixing gaping holes than band-aids ever were.


	7. Pink Dresses for Goths

_**spoilers for 1x15 -- Power of Madonna! **_

**Pink Dresses for Goths**

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**

Artie wants to meet with me. I glare, staring at the hastily delivered text message.

_Meet me in the choir room after school. -Artie._

Part of me is still mad. I want to blow him off, like he blew off my feelings. He forgave me, like I'd been hoping he'd do forever, only to add a damned ultimatum to the apology. Talk about your strings attached. He wants to talk. Sure, like he listened to me. I should blow him off.

But he looked scared when I yelled at him in the hallway two days ago. And he just looked _sad _when I came in for rehearsal yesterday.

I fling myself on my bed, frustrated. Losing my temper like that should have made me feel better. Should have. But it didn't. It felt okay for like, five seconds, and even though Artie was a jerk, I think he was trying to hit on me. But it came out really badly.

Sighing, I fling through my wardrobe, looking past all my clothes, trying to see if I own anything that's not gothic-inspired in the slightest. Even if I am furious at Artie, I still really, really like the guy, and I pause on a pink jumper buried far back in the depths of my closet.

It's not at all me, a bright pink thing with a peter pan collar and gray trim. I think an aunt sent it to me for Christmas last year. (The last time I met this aunt in person, I was approximately six.) I don't even know why it's still here. But it's got color, and it's not that tight, but it's definitely not goth.

I slip it on, examining how the dress looks when paired with my purple streaks and plain, make-up and accessory free features. I look about twelve.

Frowning, I put part of my hair back with a big black bow. I still look ridiculous. This just isn't _me._ I consider changing, but then an idea sparks in the back of my mind, and before I know it, I'm throwing on a bulky gothic necklace, and several studded bracelets and really lurid purple eyeshadow for good measure.

When I'm done, it looks like I went a little crazy. But that's okay. I feel pretty crazy right now.

I make my way though my first class, and the gasps and stares are getting on my nerves. Yes. Tina Cohen-Chang is wearing a pink dress today. No, the apocalypse is not near. Get over yourselves.

After second period, I've had enough of it. I go to seek solace in the choir room, already wondering how tough it would be to sneak home and change, or better yet, just blow off the rest of the school day. My hands nervously start toying with the piano keys uncertainly. (I took piano lessons for about a week back when I was six, before my parents realized their money would be better spent on art lessons instead, much to my eternal gratitude.)

After about twenty minutes of playing the same note over and over, I nearly jump out of my skin and the terrible dress when I hear the door open. Much to my surprise, I see that it's Artie wheeling in. At first I'm relieved that it's not a teacher, that feeling is quickly replaced by caution. I eye him warily. He doesn't even like me. Why is he here?

"I thought you'd be in class," I say, my eyes firmly affixed on the piano keys.

"I thought_ you'd_ be in class," echoes Artie, wheeling next to me. He rests his elbow on the piano, and the silence settles over the both of us again.

So here I sit, in a bright pink dress that I absolutely hate, and my favorite goth accessories, toying with a piano key like my life depended on it and staring at my best friend who _sort of tried to hit on me but not really_, wondering who's going to break the awkward silence first.

He does. And for that, I think, I'm grateful.


	8. Changes

The word left Tina shivering when she saw it on her locker. Hastily scribbled, written in what looked to be permanent marker. It was her trademark kind of pen, and there it was, working against her. Her first instinct was to hide, run away until the mark was gone. But her growing feminism, and the confidence Glee gave her made it impossible to walk away this time. Instead, she reached for lipstick from her pocket. With courage provided by one of her favorite songs, she quickly scrawled three extra words next to the hastily written insult.

_The __**bitch**__ is back._

_

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(Elton John: The Bitch is Back)_


End file.
